


Nothing Better Than a Sister

by Sohotthateveryonedied



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Because I love the thought of this idiot sibling trio being the city's sole caretakers, Brother-Sister Relationships, Bruce is sighing all the way from Gotham, But I don't care, Cassandra Cain is CUTE, Dick Grayson is a Good Brother, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Humor, I know in the comics Dick wasn't really in Bludhaven when Tim and Cass were there, I love her, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22512058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sohotthateveryonedied/pseuds/Sohotthateveryonedied
Summary: Dick pads out of his room into the small kitchen of his shoebox apartment, only to find Cass perched on one of his thrift store bar stools like a gargoyle and eating cereal out of the box in large handfuls.Dick grins. Cass’ visits are infrequent and irregular compared to Tim’s, but always welcome. “Hey, Cassie. I’m going to assume you hopefully re-locked whichever window you came through?"
Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Dick Grayson
Comments: 17
Kudos: 264
Collections: Dick & Cass, everybody loves dick





	Nothing Better Than a Sister

**Author's Note:**

> (Let's face it, there is not _nearly_ enough Dick and Cass bonding in the world.)

There is no better feeling in the entire  _ universe _ —better than foot massages and orgasms and when you drop your phone but your earbuds save it from a glass-shattering hardwood tragedy—is waking up to one’s work alarm, only to remember with glee that it’s a Sunday.    
  
Dick slams the snooze button and stretches his arms over his head with a deep, doglike yawn. A notch pops in his back. The bedroom isn’t bathed in sunlight as it should be, but rather cast in a navy silhouette. Damn daylight savings schedule.    
  
Dick has half a mind to draw the curtains closed and catch another hour or six, but then his ears catch on to the sound of TV-crackled voices muffling in through the closed door. Tim must have snuck in again to steal Dick’s food. And who is Dick to turn down company?    
  
Tim and Cass have only been living in Blüdhaven for a few weeks, but already Dick finds himself buying groceries  _ far _ more often than he used to, back when he was the city’s only bat. Not that he minds.    
  
If there is one thing Dick has come to appreciate over the past few months, (besides that new heaven-sent Tresemmé conditioner bringing back his raven sheen), it’s what a difference company can make. As much as Dick loves this city, he might as well have been Castaway all on his lonesome.    
  
Back when Gotham was his stomping ground, it seemed like Dick couldn’t escape the comforts of family if he  _ tried.  _ Even more so when he lived at Titans Tower, because this time he was surrounded by friends every time he left his bedroom. He was encased by love on all sides, whether he wanted it or not. And he  _ did  _ want it, even on his worst days.    
  
Then he came here to Blüdhaven, and everything shifted. For the first time in his life, Dick was completely alone. His friends and family were no longer within arm’s reach, and in spite of being overjoyed at finally grasping his longed-for freedom, he found himself homesick. You never realize how much you’ve needed people around you until they’re gone.    
  
He’s compensated over the years by driving up to Gotham every weekend and by having Wally spend the night here every time one of them has a rough day, but the void Dick felt at having his loved ones so out of reach was beyond draining.    
  
In hindsight, Dick shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, he’s been an extrovert all his life. It’s one of his greatest strengths, he thinks, for it makes him better able to connect with people than, say, Bruce. But some days, being alone is...well, it’s  _ drowning _ . Just five hours without human contact is pushing it for him, and so Dick has taken to spending his off days doing casework in bustling cafes or sitting on park benches, watching families go about their lives. He soaks in the humanity for as long as he can.    
  
Things have been better lately, now that Tim and Cass are here. Much better. Having his siblings close is a gift Dick doesn’t take lightly, and he makes a point of joining the pair on patrols whenever he can and dropping by their apartments during the day. (He recently picked up on the fact that Cass spends hardly any time at her place and prefers to crash at Tim’s or Dick’s, depending on which is closer at the time.)    
  
Needless to say, Dick  _ loves  _ having them here. A couple of dumbass siblings puttering around his city, getting into trouble and using up all his hot water is just what the doctor ordered.    
  
Dick’s sluggishness is steadfast and imposing, yet he pushes aside the covers and rises, bare feet hitting the cold floor. He briefly considers dressing into something more classy than his Superman boxers, only to deem the act too much work for now; during a time when he’s on the brink of crabbiness from too much morning and not enough sunlight to perk him up.    
  
Maybe after some Starbucks.    
  
Dick pads out of his room into the small kitchen of his shoebox apartment, only to find  _ Cass _ —not Tim—perched on one of his thrift store bar stools like a gargoyle and eating cereal out of the box in large handfuls. She’s watching television over the kitchen island that separates the living room from the kitchen.    
  
Dick grins. Cass’ visits are infrequent and irregular compared to Tim’s, but always welcome. “Hey, Cassie.” No doubt she and her psychic ninja senses were already aware of his presence from the instant he woke up, but it can’t hurt to give a polite warning anyway. “I’m going to assume you hopefully re-locked whichever window you came through?”   
  
Her eyes leave the television briefly to look at him. “Hi.” There’s cereal dust on her nose and cheeks, and Dick longs to take a picture for Bruce, if only there were a way to do so without Cass catching him red-handed. (Spoiler alert: there’s not.)    
  
“You could have woken me up,” he says. “I don’t mind. Tim does it all the time when he breaks in and gets lonely.” As he talks, he crosses the kitchen and goes straight for the coffee maker. Starbucks will have to wait until he’s awake enough to make it there without falling asleep at the wheel.    
  
Cass just munches away on Dick’s prized Frosted Flakes.    
  
“So how long have you been here?” he asks. He’s learned after some practice that Cass is a simple conversationalist. The question-answer system is usually the best way to go.   
  
“Couple hours.” She pries her gaze from the TV once more and lets her brown eyes roll over Dick; bedhead, droopy eyes and all. “You look tired.”    
  
“Late night.” He scoops what he hopes is an adequate amount of coffee grounds and dumps it into the filter. Tim is better at this than he is. The only reason he even  _ has  _ a coffee maker is because Tim was appalled when he learned that Dick’s caffeine intake depended solely on the generosity of 24-hour cafes and McDonald’s cold brew.    
  
“Good haul?” she guesses.    
  
“I’ve been tailing a few local drug dealers in the hopes that they’ll lead me to a lord my source says has been hitting up schools around Avalon Heights. I’m still working on it.” He watches the coffee drip directly into the World’s Best Niece mug Roy gave him for Christmas last year. “How about you? Good night?”    
  
Cass’ mouth twitches upward. “Morning, actually. Two muggings and a robbery.”    
  
“Nice job,  _ Batgirl.”  _ Dick pours an unholy amount of sugar into his mug. Only now, as the scent of freshly-brewed Colombian roast perks up his sleepy brain, does Dick realize Cass is wearing one of his ratty Hudson University sweatshirts over leggings that he’s almost certain came from Tim’s laundry.    
  
Dick nods toward the sweatshirt over his mug. “You know, I’ll let you keep that if you can get back the tank top Tim stole from me last month.”    
  
Her lip curls. “Deal.” And then her focus is back on the television.    
  
Dick looks over to see what has her so captivated and watches a gazelle fall prey to a lioness. “Nature documentaries? I thought that was Barbara’s thing.”    
  
Cass shrugs. “Remote’s missing.”    
  
“Ah.” He’s been meaning to track that thing down. He’s almost certain the couch cushions ate it.    
  
Cass squints at the clock on the wall for a while, until Dick remembers that she can’t read analog clocks yet. “It’s 5:47,” he supplies.    
  
“Don’t you have...work?”    
  
He grins. “Not today, I don’t.” Thank  _ god.  _ “Which means I’m free if you want to hang out. We can head to the mall, or go to a bookstore and get you some new books.” Has she finished the fairy tale collection he gave her last week yet? He can’t remember.    
  
Cass’ eyes twinkle. “Nap first. Then hang.”    
  
“You got it.” He sets his coffee on the counter and opens the fridge, taking out the milk and a carton of eggs. “You planning on finishing the box? Because I don’t know about you, but I could  _ seriously _ go for some pancakes right now. What do you say?”    
  
Cass swallows another handful of cereal. “I...could eat.” Which makes Dick laugh.    
  
“Then would you mind fishing out a bowl from that cabinet over there?” He nods to the row of cabinets above her head. “I’ll show you how to make Alfred’s homemade pancakes. He always told me the secret ingredient was love, but I figured out a while ago that it’s actually cinnamon.”    
  
“Shocking.” She brings back the bowl and then makes a beeline for the fridge. “Do you...have any ketchup?”   
  
"You did not just say that to me." She shrugs. With a gasp, Dick presses one hand to his heart like an old lady. “I’m  _ not _ letting you put ketchup on my pancakes, Cass.”   
  
“It’s good.”    
  
“Yeah, on  _ cheeseburgers.  _ I’m not going to stand by while you desecrate my delicious pancakes with globs of tomato smoothie.”    
  
She swipes his coffee from the counter—because apparently  _ nothing  _ is sacred these days—and takes a sip. “Bigot. You just have no...tongue buds.”    
  
_ “You  _ have no taste buds. I’m a culinary genius.” He waves around a whisk to prove his point.    
  
Cass nods patiently. “Can I crack the eggs?”   
  
“Of course, I’m not a monster.”

Like he said, being in the same city as his siblings is a gift Dick doesn't take lightly, and never will. Having Cass here, stealing his coffee and bantering with him over pancakes is _just_ what the doctor ordered. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I dare you to leave a comment and tell me the title of your favorite movie. 
> 
> [Feel free to mosey on down to my Tumblr!](http://sohotthateveryonedied.tumblr.com/)


End file.
